A/N: Alright, I hadn't planned on this being more than one chapter, but since you asked, I was encouraged to write this. And before you protest, I had most of the ideas in this planned out for the first part, but I couldn't quite make them fit in. I will not write more to this, either.

OOOOO

Harry Potter sat in the dimly lit, quiet kitchen of Number Twelve Grimmauld Place with a cup of black coffee and a scowl for company, with a sheaf of parchment between them. The fireplace let out a single, lonely last crack before dying to mere embers. The room grew colder and quite dark, but Harry did not move to liven the fire with his wand nor a fire poker, for he was too deep in thought to notice the dying fire and the growing cold and darkness.

The previous night he had stopped by the new Malfoy Manor (the old one having been demolished by the Ministry some fifteen years ago because of all the dark magic corrupting the foundation), unannounced, once his children, their guest, and wife were asleep. There, he had demanded to know why Draco Malfoy's son was acting like an abused child might.

The answer was not what Harry had expected.

Draco Malfoy watched Harry Potter for several moments before answering. "You should know, Potter," he finally said as he turned to the doorway. Harry followed him to the study where they could talk in private. "Tell me," Draco said once they were sitting. "Do you still talk to those muggle relatives of yours?"

"No," Harry replied. "I haven't talked to them in years. If I could, I would forget all about them."

"Just as I thought." Draco nodded. "Tell me, Potter," he reiterated, clasping is hands together and pressing his forefingers to his lips, his elbows rested on the armrests. The rest of his fingers folded so his hands were clasped together, minus those two fingers, and he pointed them at the Auror. "Why don't you talk to them anymore?" His hands shook with purpose, to punctuate his words and show his curiosity.

Harry supposed he could play Draco's game, if it would get him the answer he was searching for. "They were never my family," Harry answered quietly. He settled back in his chair and regarded the man opposite him. "They never wanted me, and made it very clear about it."

"And what did they do to you?"

There was a long silence. Harry was not sure what to say- what he could say. Should he tell the truth, or a variation? Was he supposed to say what he had told his best friends and wife, or what he had told anyone else who had asked? If anyone else had asked, he would have told them he had slept in a cupboard for ten years and when he had been moved to Dudley's second bedroom there had been bars, a cat flap for food, and several locks on the door. If anyone else had asked, he would have not mentioned the lack of food, clothing, and care he had experienced.

"I could not trust adults," Harry answered, just as quietly as before. Draco leaned forward, his hands still clasped, eager for the answer. "No one would help me. I had told a few adults about their neglect, but no one believed me- the Dursleys were too perfect to abuse their horrible, awful nephew." The words were scoffed out with a sneer to befriend the disgust he felt with their treatment. "I was beaten only once, but that was because my accidental magic saved me." He sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. "Why do you want to know?"

Harry looked up just as Draco sighed and sat back. "I want my son to hate me," said Draco. Harry started to open his mouth, but thought better. "The Malfoy name... There is no hope for us. I want our name to be terminated. I made mistakes, and my father made mistakes. They were mistakes that were irreversible. The only way to fix these mistakes is to disown my son and abolish the Malfoy name."

"I see..."

And he did. Harry could understand why Draco Malfoy was doing this to his child, but...

Harry did not understand how he could do this to his own child.

"I don't want to do this," Draco said, as if reading his thoughts. "But my wife and I thought it was for the best. I never wanted to hurt my son..." He looked up at Harry with tears in his eyes. "Please believe me."

"I do." Harry sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "But you know that I cannot let Scorpius stay here with you. I have to report you."

"I know. But please wait until I formally disown my son?"

Harry lowered his head. "I will. Where will he go?"

"I was hoping..." Draco looked away. "I was hoping that you would take him. Since Scorpius saved your son, I was wanting- hoping- that you would take him in. I know if you would be uncomfortable with that, since my son is gay-"

"I don't really have a problem with that." Harry shook his head. "I'm wondering if my own son is, and I think our sons might actually get together." He grinned at Draco's surprised look. "Yes, they were holding hands at the train station."

Draco nodded slowly. "So this will help my plans carry on. When it becomes official that they are together, I can disown him then, and there is no chance of the Malfoy line continuing."

"And I will take Scorpius in once he is disowned."

"Yes. And you will be the hero once again." Draco let out a bitter laugh. When he was done, he added solemnly, "I have been adding money to his vault without his knowledge for a while, now, so he should be alright for a time." They were silent for a moment. The fire crackled and kept the semi-dark room warm and lit with orange light. "Please don't tell him, or anyone else," Draco finally whispered.

Harry, knowing a dismissal when he heard one, nodded and stood. He made his way to the fireplace and stopped just before throwing in the floo powder. "I promise. This will stay between the two of us."

"We never had this talk."

"What talk?"

With a flash of green, he left the new Malfoy Manor.

When he had gotten back, he had sat in the kitchen for several minutes thinking over his conversation with his long-ago enemy. Once midnight had come and gone, he had finally gotten up to go to bed. Before he had entered his room, though, he had heard a shout from Albus's room. Thinking the worst, he had dashed up the stairs to help his son- or Scorpius, if that was the case.

Voices coming from his youngest son's room stopped him before he entered. He had listened in on Scorpius's tale and had turned around to head back to his room, knowing that Albus could comfort him, when he heard his son ask, "Can I kiss you?"

He had only stuck around to hear Scorpius's answer- or rather, the small sound of their first kiss- before grinning and heading to bed.

Footfalls on the stairs jerked him from his thoughts. The door to the kitchen opened to reveal his youngest son and his new boyfriend- which he had yet to tell the rest of his family about. Harry grinned at the thought that he was the only one who knew so far, and the two boys didn't even know that he knew.

"Dad!" said Albus in surprise. "What are you doing up?"

"I could ask you the same thing," he teased, standing and moving over to the stove to start some hot chocolate. He finally noticed the darkness and temperature of the room so he waved his wand at the fire to get it going again. The room slowly started to warm up on that cold December night. The fire threw strange shadows across the room, even though he had cleaned up the house of anything strange and dark many years ago. "Go ahead and sit. What brings you all the way down here?"

"Scorpius had another nightmare," replied Albus, sitting across the table from where his dad had been sitting. Scorpius sat down next to him and Albus wrapped an arm around his waist. Harry looked at the two and raised an amused eyebrow. The fire livened his son, but made his friend- or would it be lover? No, Harry could not think of his sixteen-year-old son having a 'lover' (that was just so strange to think about!) so Scorpius would have to be dubbed 'boyfriend' for the time being- look quite gaunt in comparison. Harry, of course, was worried, but he could not ask when his son exclaimed, "It's not what you think, dad!"

"Oh?" said Harry, hiding his amusement. He could ask Scorpius later, he decided. "'It' is not just you being a friend, comforting his friend in distress?"

Both boys blushed, but Albus did not take his hand away. If anything, he pulled the blond even closer. "Uhm... Dad?" Harry watched from the corner of his eye as he turned back to the stove. He saw Albus give Scorpius a questioning look, who returned the silent question with a shrug. "I... have something to tell you. Do you promise not to blow your lid?"

Harry was amused that his son thought he would be angry when he had taught all his children to be tolerable. "Now why would I do that?" he asked, trying his hardest to hide his amusement. He did so by turning completely to the stove so his son would not see the twitch of his lips.

"Just... don't," was the response. "Uhm... Dad... Scorpius and I... We're... uhm, more than friends."

He coughed to hide his laugh. Schooling his features (because he was a trained Auror, and he could keep a straight face, thank you very much) he turned back to his son with confusion written all over his face. "What do you mean, Albus?" he asked, setting down the two mugs. "Are you best friends, then? What's so bad about that?"

"No, dad..." Albus took a quick drink to calm his nerves, idly forgetting that hot chocolate was, well, hot, just as its name implied. He cursed and nearly spilled his drink when he hurriedly set it back down on the table. Harry rolled his eyes and handed him a cup of cold water to soothe his mouth. He ignored the curse, for now, since he knew Albus was feeling stressed with coming out to his father, a war-hardened head Auror, the man who had defeated a dark lord multiple times.

"We're t-together, Mister P-Potter," Scorpius managed to stutter out while Albus was still trying to cool his mouth. "As in..." He gulped. "I-I m-mean-"

Harry leaned across the table and rested a hand on Scorpius's fidgeting ones. "It's alright, Scorpius." He grinned at the two. "I was only teasing you. That's what father's do, you know." He hid a wince when he saw Scorpius flinch at that. "I knew you were together."

Albus sprayed his water across the table. Harry rolled his eyes and waved the mess away with his wand while Albus spluttered out, "What? How?"

"I heard Scorpius shout last night," Harry answered, "and I went up to your room to make sure you were alright. I heard the whole story." He grew solemn and fingered his cup of coffee. "I was trying to figure out a way to get Scorpius to stay here instead of going back to the Malfoy Manor." He knew how, actually- all he had to do was throw his name around here and there- but he had to wait until Malfoy disowned his son publicly. Now he could send a letter to Draco, wait until Scorpius was disowned, then grab custody of Scorpius.

"Is that why you're down here so late, then?" Albus asked, pulling Scorpius closer. He didn't seem to mind that he was doing so in front of his father, especially since his father was being so accepting of them.

Harry picked up a sheaf of parchment and shook it. The parchment made a sharp sound in the dimly lit, quiet kitchen. The sound of the parchment was only just louder than the crackling fire. "I was pouring over these papers to see what I could do to get you out of there, Scorpius. I know what it's like," he whispered, sitting back down. He held his cup of coffee to his lips and adverted his eyes from the pair. "To not be wanted by your own family. To have your very existence hated. To... A lot of things, really." He drank from his cup, his green eyes growing dark at the memories of his relatives.

His son's soft, "Dad..." brought him back from his thoughts. "You are a lot like me, Scorpius," he finally murmured into his cup. "Growing up hated, yet showing so much compassion for others.

"It helps, you know, to talk," he added. He glanced up at his son, and the same bright green eyes stared sadly right back at him. "It doesn't matter who to; your best friend, Albus, a teacher, or me. I... would understand more than anyone else could."

Harry threw back his head and drained the rest of his bitter coffee. He stood, set his cup in the sink to be washed in the morning, and walked to the stairs. At the bottom, without looking back and with his hand on the banister, he added, "Never think you are worthless. You will rise above him, and you will make your dream to help people come true."

"What- How-"

"That's what I wanted to do." Harry threw a smile over his shoulder and disappeared up the stairs.

Harry paused at the bottom of a flight of stairs. Changing his mind, he backtracked to his study. Opening the door slowly, he slid into the room and dropped to his knees in front of the fire that was merely embers now. "Malfoy Manor," he intoned, throwing a small handful of powder into the fireplace. Green flames roared to life and he stuck his head in, requesting the nearest house elf to speak with Master Draco, it is an emergency, please and thank you.

Several minutes passed by before Draco came into the room, dressed in nightclothes with a housecoat over the top. When he saw Harry, he let out a sigh of relief. "I take it they are officially together, then?"

"They just told me."

Draco nodded slowly and knelt in front of Harry. "When will you come to arrest me, then?"

"Most likely tomorrow afternoon," Harry replied, a look of sadness in his eyes. He looked up at Draco. "I don't really want to do this."

"But you have to."

Harry shook the tears from his eyes. "What about the Missus? Will she claim Imperius, or that she was too afraid of you to do anything for fear of retribution?"

It was Draco's turn to shake his head. "We have everything already worked out." He paused and drew in a shaky breath. "Astoria... While I go to Azkaban, she will use the distraction to hide herself away. She has family in France."

"I see." Harry tried to gulp his way around the lump in his throat. "What if... What if Scorpius had turned to hatred instead of love, Draco? Everything you have done would have been for naught."

He could see Draco's jaw clench, even though the flames threw strange shadows on his pointed face. In that moment he looked just as gaunt as his son had just minutes before. "That was a risk I was willing to take."

"You know..." the head Auror started. He had to clear his throat to continue. "You are a good father, despite all this."

Again, Draco nodded slowly, this time wiping a tear from his pale eye. "You should leave."

And so leave he did, with the parting words, "Send him the letter in the morning, at breakfast, so I can get a team together by the afternoon. I'll lead the arrest."

He barely heard the whispered, "Thank you," as he withdrew from the fireplace.

OOOOO

The next day was not a happy sort of day. A magnificent owl swooped in through the window just as Ginny was finishing breakfast and the last of the sleepy stragglers (James) had sat down. Scorpius stiffened in his seat as the owl landed right in front of him. Albus, sensing his fear, took the letter for him. The owl immediately flew off once the letter had been detached. Scorpius took one look at the letter and shoved it in Harry's direction.

"Mister Potter...?"

"Harry, Scorpius," he told him gently with a small, comforting smile. He took the letter and opened it, already knowing what it would say. It still broke his heart when he gave the frightened boy the gist of the letter with the rest of his family listening in.

"O-Oh," Scorpius murmured once the oldest of the household had finished speaking. Albus tucked him into his side to calm him, not caring who saw any longer. Scorpius' father had outed them, so they would not have to hide any longer.

Harry stood suddenly, not being able to contain himself any longer at the sight of his son holding his distressed boyfriend. "I might be home late," he told his wife. "Go ahead and eat without me." He nodded once in Scorpius's direction and turned on the spot, disappearing with a sharp crack.

That afternoon Harry found himself once again in Malfoy Manor. Astoria had gone, just as Draco had promised. Draco was in his son's room, just packing the rest of his son's belongings in an ornate trunk. He closed the lid and stood to face the team of Aurors under Harry Potter's command. The head of the Malfoy name did not even put up a fight as Harry placed the shackles on his wrists. In the commotion, Harry shrunk and pocketed the trunk without so much as a sideways glance from any of his men.

Harry was the one to "question" Draco Malfoy in one of the interrogation rooms before they took him to Azkaban. Really, it was just a formality until they could get all the paperwork settled.

Through it all, Harry felt bad for Draco Malfoy. Sure, he had done the unimaginable- harming a child, a wizard child at that, when there were so few of them left- but he had done it for what he had felt had to be done. He had done it to abolish the Malfoy name, and to save his child and possible- although unlikely- grandchildren. And he was being sent to Azkaban for doing so.

"Potter... Harry," Draco hissed behind slightly pallid, parted lips. His pale eyes, somewhat glassy in appearance, pleaded with Harry to understand.

And Harry did understand. He stood and walked to the door. He only paused momentarily to throw a look over his shoulder he hoped Draco understood. Gripping the door, he muttered, "Your son will have a better life."

"I know."

The newspapers later that day told the whole story. Scorpius had been disowned and Draco had been arrested for child abuse. Astoria had disappeared, and some whispered that Draco had murdered her and had destroyed her body to hide the fact. The story also told of how Draco Malfoy had died, right in the interrogation room. Many wondered how that could have possibly happened when his wand had been taken and someone had been watching him the whole time.

A few days later the papers issued another story on the mysterious case: Draco Malfoy had taken a slow-acting poison and committed suicide. Very few wondered if he had taken it because he felt remorse, although others had said he had taken it because he was a coward and did not want to face Azkaban.

If only they knew how right the first group of people were, but only Harry and Astoria knew the real story, and neither were willing to share.

Scorpius, for the most part, did not seem all that bothered by the news of being disowned. To take his mind off of being disowned, Albus and Lily took him to the park only a few streets over. When Harry came home with news of his father's death (Harry didn't want the poor kid to find out from the papers) James grabbed Scorpius and disappeared with him for several hours. They did not emerge from their hiding spot from the top floor until well after midnight, and neither were willing to share the next morning what had gone on in those missing hours.

The next day Harry took off a day from work just to sit with Scorpius. The two sat mostly in silence before Harry started speaking about his own father's death, and about the horrible memory when he was just fifteen months old. Tears gathered in his eyes, and once Scorpius saw the tears, he started crying as well. Harry held him and told him it was alright to cry, to let it all out, that it did no good to hold it all in.

Tears still streamed down his face, but Scorpius's sobs had subsided. Once Harry had stopped speaking, he began to tell his own story of what he had endured for fourteen years. He told Harry the complete story, since he had only told Albus part of what he had gone through.

Harry said nothing, for fear of stopping the story spewing from the teenager's mouth as if it could not leave fast enough. He made no movement, for fear of disrupting the story being spun through the air. He listened, and he let his tears fall unchecked as the child spilled his story.

At the end, Scorpius heaved a great sigh and thanked him. "I do feel much better." Both laughed and wiped the tears from their cheeks.

Harry wiped the remaining tears away that Scorpius had missed and smiled down at the boy as he held his face in his hands. "I was able to get guardianship of you," he told the boy. "Since you are almost seventeen I won't force you to do things I would make Albus do. I only got guardianship so you could stay here for the rest of the holiday, and for the summer and next Christmas if you wish, instead of being a ward of the Ministry."

Scorpius nodded, more tears falling from his eyes. "Thank you, Harry. I would love to come during the summer and next Christmas."

"You won't have to call me father," Harry told him with a gentle smile as he wiped the fresh tears away. "I think that would make it a little awkward between you and Albus, if I am not mistaken?" He laughed at Scorpius's deep blush and kissed his temple before pulling him into another hug. When they finally pulled apart, Harry reached into his pocket and pulled out a trunk. "I was able to salvage some of your belongings. Since you're staying here, I thought I'd go ahead and give you a room. Would the room on the second floor be alright?"

Scorpius nodded happily. "That's fine with me, sir."

Harry grinned and poked his nose. "None of this 'sir' business. I'm not a teacher and I'm not your boss." Scorpius laughed and nodded his approval. "Now go find that boyfriend of yours. He's worried sick about you."

The young man stopped at the door and turned to face Harry. "Uhm... Harry?"

"Yes?" He glanced up, curious about what Scorpius would want since the boy never asked for anything from him or Ginny.

"You aren't... afraid? Of m-me t-taking advantage of your son?"

Harry grinned once again. He supposed that if Sirius or Remus had been there, they would have commented that he looked exactly like his father when he came up with another prank. "No, I'm not worried about that, per se," he told the boy. "I'm more worried that he will take advantage of you." He laughed when Scorpius squeaked in surprise. "Don't worry, I'll have a talk with him tonight. Now off you go."

However, Scorpius did not leave immediately. Instead, he stepped away from the still-closed door, his head down and his fingers playing with the hem of his shirt. "Harry... How did you do it?"

Harry frowned back, not sure what the teenager was talking about. "Do what, exactly?"

Scorpius spread his arms, as if that would explain it. "Go on. I mean... How did you get through it?"

Harry stood and stepped up to Scorpius. He rested a comforting hand on the thin shoulder. Making sure Scorpius was paying attention and looking into his eyes, he said, "It's hard, at first. I was depressed for months both times, when Sirius and then Remus died. They were the closest thing I had to a father. I- It was very hard to continue." He placed his other hand on the other shoulder while he thought of something more to say to comfort the boy.

"I had to remind myself that I still had good things in life. I still had Ron and Hermione, and then my godson Teddy. I had managed to survive, and I had met my parents before Voldemort killed me."

Scorpius hung his head. "Thanks, but... That... wasn't what I meant."

"Oh." Harry tipped the boy's chin back up so he could look back into his eyes. "It will get better, Scorpius. I know your father was horrible to you, and your mother did nothing about it. I do. But having friends and someone who loves you helps make it better. I won't promise that you will get over it one hundred percent, but I can promise that confiding in someone and knowing that others love you helps. It really does."

Scorpius gave him a small smile. "Thank you, Mister- I mean, Harry."

Harry ruffled his hair and pushed him towards the door. "Don't thank me; just remember that you may come find me just to talk at any time. Now, just go find Al."

With a bigger smile- this one shining in his eyes- Scorpius left, closing the door behind him with a soft sound. Harry, as if he were a puppet with his strings cut, fell back into the chair he had occupied previously.

Even now, even though Scorpius was not the first child he had counseled and would certainly not be the last, it was still difficult. It was painful every single time to listen to a child- more so a teenager who had had to endure it for years- tell their bitter, horrible story.

At least, he reasoned, Scorpius was not as bitter about it as he had the right to be.

OOOOO

Indeed, Harry had talked to Albus the following evening. The boy was absolutely mortified, and James outright laughed at his younger brother when he came out of his father's study, but at least he knew his father was being fair about his relationship. It wasn't anything Harry hadn't said to James regarding his first girlfriend.

Lily, of course, was all for their relationship. She was less embarrassing with her teasing than James was, but she still teased them whenever opportunity knocked- which it did so frequently. For example: whenever she was curled up with Scorpius reading a book in front of the fire and Albus came in, she would jump up and make an excuse that she was needed elsewhere- "Yes, mum? Coming!" She would then shoot the boys a sly grin and hurry off.

"Should have been a Slytherin, that one," muttered Albus after the fifth time she ran out of the room.

James, on the other side of the room, chuckled. "She just likes Scorpius," he told the two. "That, and she likes seeing you happy, Al. She's hoping she'll get to be the flower girl at your wedding, or something."

Scorpius blushed a brilliant shade of pink. "Wh-What?"

Albus, with a gentle smile, kissed his cheek. James rolled his eyes at his brother's Public Display of Affection. He was reading here, didn't they know! "Teenagers," he muttered with a huff.

The couple chuckled at the older boy. "You're only a year older than I am," Albus reminded him, cuddling closer to his boyfriend.

The eldest Potter child harrumphed, but could not keep the grin off his face. "You know, little brother..." he started slyly, placing his book to the side when an idea struck him. It was a very good idea indeed, and it would help him get back at his sister for decorating his room with those muggle boy bands she was obsessed with that morning. "I have a perfect idea."

The smirk on his face could not get any smugger. Albus slid forward, pulling Scorpius with him so they could scheme.

"What do you have in mind, brother mine?"

A grin morphed onto his face.

Scorpius rolled his silver eyes at the brothers' antics, but listened anyway. It's nice, he thought, and I'm finally allowed to be happy.